Feathered Wings: Gray, Like Charcoal
by Story Please
Summary: Everyone dies. But not everyone is ready to move on. After a life of abuse and bitterness, Severus Snape is killed by Nagini's bite and finds himself waking from a strange yet vivid dream in an unknown world. His memories and his name is lost to him. Will he find the strength to move on or will he allow the pain that followed him in life destroy him in death?
1. Chapter 1

Hello again!

Thanks to me and my stupid coming up with stories at four in the morning and wanting to tell them even if they end up seeming strange on paper, I present yet another crossover story. I'm having a really difficult time in my regular life right now. Writing stories helps me cope.

WARNING: This is a crossover universe story, so things may get a little weird. If you're familiar with the world of Haibane Renmei, there is a heavily implied plot point in which you find out that most of the Haibane seem to have met a painful death in the Real World, either through suicide or some other traumatic sort of death that the soul must take time to recover from.

In the Harry Potter universe, I feel that there is a particular character who, upon death, would not move on to whatever is next (either rebirth or some sort of afterlife).

So, what do you think it would take for Severus Snape to be ready to move on? Love? Friendship? Finding a place where he feels as though he truly belongs?

This story may or may not involve romantic love. There will also be a number of OC's.

In any case, I hope you enjoy what I'm trying to do.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Water's Call**

Wet warmth surrounded him. It was so comforting, he simply wanted to lie there forever, floating shrouded by water as the greenish blue light filtered down from above. He had no fear of drowning, for he had no need of drawing breath. He wrapped his arms around his body, not out of cold, but out of comfort. He'd come from somewhere, but he couldn't remember _where_, exactly. Something had happened. Something painful.

He frowned.

That was all he could remember.

Perhaps it was a blessing, though

A small golden light was making its way down from above like a tiny drop of sunlight into his warm, green, watery cocoon. Somehow, he knew not to be afraid.

A tiny fish.

_A friend._

_You're here to help me, aren't you?_ he said without moving his lips and the fish nodded, sliding the warmth of her (for he knew she was female the same way he knew that he did not need to breathe) glowing scales against his cheek and swimming up as though pointing the way.

He shook his head, dark hair fanning out around him like dancing seaweed.

_I don't think I can go where you want me to go. It doesn't feel right._

The little fish swam below him and tried comically to push him upward, but he reached out a pale hand and gently grasped the little golden creature, bringing her up to his face.

_Thank you. I know you're trying to help, but I will be fine. I'm sure we will see each other again._

The fish nuzzled firmly against his cheek as though accepting his words, and he noticed that her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green he'd ever seen. Just like the water around him.

With one last whispery brush of her long, gossamer fins, she was swimming up, up and away the way she'd come, and his heart ached just a little before it passed and he felt a heat rise into his chest and calm him as he drifted further down into the comforting, watery darkness.

He slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Hatching Day**

"It's hatching! It's hatching!" OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH!" Zephyr yelped, dropping the broom she had been carrying and ran, pell-mell down to the den.

"COME! EVERYONE! IT'S HATCHING!" she shouted, pulling a strand of auburn hair behind her ears haphazardly.

"Yaaaayyyyy!" said a group of small children as they rushed past the young woman in her gauche orange knit sweater and messy ponytail.

An middle-aged woman with an irritated look on her face and a pout that suggested she smoked far too many cigarettes and left them dangling from her lips while doing so gave Zephyr a sharp look.

"Did you _really_ need to shout it at the top of your lungs?" she said irritably as she crossed her arms, "Now the little feathers are going to go make a fuss. Our newcomer is going to need peace and quiet to get through the hatching process!"

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport, Petra!" Zephyr replied, sticking her tongue out like a pouty teenager.

Petra rolled her eyes.

"Well, there's no use in pointing fingers. The cat's out of the bag," she said exasperatedly, "Let's go and catch up with the little feathers and set up a proper watch for our newbie."

"I'll go tell the others in town!" Zephyr said brightly, "After all, we haven't had a hatching day in ages!"

"Fine, but be quick about it. And take the bicycle or it'll take you all day, even with you running around like a chicken with its head cut off," Petra replied with a smirk.

"Roger Dodger over and out!" Zephyr said with an impish grin and she saluted Petra, who rolled her eyes as the younger woman ran from the room and slammed the side door behind her.

"And use your wing covers or you'll ruffle your feathers!" Petra shouted out the window as Zephyr grabbed the helmet from the hook next to the door and rushed toward the courtyard.

"Okaaaaaaay!" Zephyr shouted without looking back.

Petra made her way to the hatching room. The little feathers were all clustered next to the giant egg, if it could be called that, which lay attached to the floor boards as though rooted to the spot. The greenish gray shell was impossible to see through, but it had lightened in color and grown to an enormous size compared to the day that it had been discovered only three days before.

"I can hear something inside!" shrieked a little girl in a ponytail, flapping her tiny gray wings excitedly, "It went _blub_!"

"Let me try!" shouted a taller girl in braided pigtails, "After all, I'm older!"

"No you're _not_, Nina!" shouted the first girl, "You just hatched bigger than me!"

"Children!" Petra shouted to get their attention and the little feathers turned abruptly and went silent.

Petra was secretly proud of her ability to do this, but smiling now would set back all of her hard work, so she screwed her face into a strict-looking scowl and pointed at a sign that was placed on the door.

"Can anyone tell me what this sign says?" she asked in her best School Teacher Voice.

Several children raised their hands.

"Yes, Velocity?" she said finally, choosing a little dark skinned girl with fluffy pigtails in the front.

"It says, 'Quiet, Hatching Room," Velocity answered shyly, toeing the floor.

"That is correct. And what are you children doing right now?" Petra asked, pointing at a little boy with sandy hair that fell down in front of his face in tight curls.

"Uhhhh," he said thoughtfully, "Not being quiet?"

"Also correct," Petra said, "And what will you need to do if you want to stay in here for more than two seconds without being assigned extra chores around Old Home?"

The little girl with the blonde ponytail jumped up and down with her hand in the air.

"Yes, Nina?" Petra said evenly.

"We should be respectful and use our Quiet Voices," Nina said seriously, her voice hushed by several degrees.

"Exactly," Petra replied, "The others should be back from town shortly, so any of you who are having trouble staying quiet can go out in the courtyard to play, but do not go through the gate to the main road or you will lose all privileges for a week."

A couple of groans came up from the crowd, but they settled down quickly with a stern look from Petra's dark brown eyes.

A few children took her up on her offer of unsupervised playtime, but most of the girls and a few of the older boys stood transfixed at the egg as though it was about to open up and offer them a puppet show.

"Waiting for a hatching to begin can be a very boring process," Petra said gently, "Sometimes it can take days."

"But I heard it go _blub_!" insisted the little girl next to Nina, "_Tell her_ Nina! Tell her about the _blub_!"

"Well, if that's the case…" Petra said skeptically, as she approached the giant egg and rested a hand against it.

_Warm. So warm._

_Blub._

"Hmm," Petra said, her eyes narrowing as she tapped softly on the egg's surface.

_BLUB!_

Her eyes widened.

"Step back children!" she warned loudly, all thoughts of quiet forgotten, "It's about to-"

CRICK-CRAAAACK!

A giant spiderweb ran jaggedly up the side of the egg and Petra found herself thrusting her hands out to either side of her body, her wings snapping wide as well and herding the children backwards towards the door.

Damn. And she had thought that she'd have more time.

"Quick!" she said to two of the older children, their eyes wide as saucers, "Get to the linen closet! We're going to need towels!"

They ran down the hall, their bare feet slapping loudly against the wooden floors.

"The rest of you will need to be absolutely still and quiet, do I make myself clear!" Petra hissed as she glanced back at the rest of the stunned children.

Everyone nodded and her shoulders relaxed by a fraction of an inch.

"Now, then," she said, rolling up the sleeves on her gray sweater and pulling back her lank black hair into the rubber band that she usually kept around her wrist, "This can get a bit messy if it's really time, so please stay out in the hall."

She hoped the silence that followed was a good sign.

There wasn't time to admonish anyone else, though, for at that moment the crack widened near the base and greenish gray water began to leak from the egg.

"I could use some towels! NOW!" Petra hollered down the hall.

"We're coming!" came the distant reply.

They were going to be too late.

Frantically looking around the room, Petra spied an old dusty quilt that had been thrown over the ancient bed in the corner.

_It'll have to do._

She pulled it off the bed, coughing at the dust cloud that filled the air and then threw it down on the floor around the egg, watching with some satisfaction as it soaked up the fluid.

"We've got the towels!" shouted the two older girls, one of them banging her shin against the door frame and swearing under her breath as they skidded into the room.

"I heard that," Petra said warningly as the girl thrust the towels in her arms and then rubbed the red welt that had risen on her leg, "But I'll overlook it for now because of exigent circumstances. Thanks for bringing the towels, now please stand out in the hall with the others."

"Awww-but-"

"No buts!" Petra said sternly, "Or I will close the door and you won't be able to see anything!"

That shut them up and they retreated out into the hallway with the others, the injured girl limping slightly as her friend let her use her shoulder to steady herself. Petra silently made a mental note to tend to the injury when all of the excitement was over and done with.

The egg creaked like an old ship in a storm and then with a burst of fluid, the crack widened even further.

Petra could see a pale flash of skin moving behind the shell, pressing against the weak point.

"That's it, you can do it," she murmured softly, placing a hand gently against the crack, "Come on, now, listen to my voice."

"YOU….CAN….DO….IT!" came a chant of small voices from behind her and she couldn't bring herself to tell them to be quiet.

A large flake of shell broke off, leaving a small, fist-sized hole in the egg. Petra waited for the gush of fluid to subside before looking in.

A hand shot out of the hole, long pale fingers so bony that they were almost skeletal.

Petra yelped despite herself and flew backwards, landing with an audible thud on the damp floor.

Another hand was pushing at the hole, making it larger, and soon a dark head with long, dripping curtains of wet hair became visible, crowning through the remaining shell like a newborn.

The shoulders and chest had broken through before Petra was able to snap out of her stupor, pulling herself up and rushing to grab the newcomer under the arms. She pulled until she fell backward again with the full weight of the newly hatched and very naked Haibane on top of her.

_Good lord. He's around the same age as me. _

A deep groan emanated from his mouth as Petra listened to the ragged breaths grow steady. It was then that it really hit her that the long hair and delicate fingers was attached to an all-too-male body. He was very thin to the point of being emaciated, and as he turned his head to the side, his large, hooked nose practically whistled as he breathed deeply in an exhausted slumber. The impression his body gave off seemed to be that of a very wiry, snow-white crow.

Even asleep and naked, his features seemed to command a severe sort of presence. Petra realized that she was staring, but she couldn't bring herself to look away.

"Haha! I can see his butt!" shouted one of the boys.

"GET OUT!" Petra roared, more out of embarrassment than anything else.

Everyone scattered. Petra rolled the man on his side as gently as she could with his near dead weight pushing her down and scrambled to her feet to get one of the cloth towels. He was obviously going to need a bath after his ordeal, but transporting him to the bath was going to be difficult. All Haibane were exhausted to the point of sleep after hatching, so this was nothing unusual, but it would have been far easier if it was another child instead of a full grown man.

_Oh well, it isn't as though we choose who comes to us. _

She was busy wrapping the towel around his middle when she heard a noise behind her.

"Petra! I saw the kids- woah!" Zephyr was back, with two other older Haibane with her.

Petra found herself blushing, though she didn't really know why.

"It...there was a _blub_! And then _crack_! And…it...he...hatched," she finished lamely.

"Dang, and I had been hoping to see the whole process," said a tall man with shortly cropped green hair.

He held his hands behind his head as though he was trying to be casual, but Petra knew he was actually pretty bummed out about having missed it.

"Well, Cole, you're still in time to help him wash up," Petra said balefully, "And you, Zephyr, and Pyrrha, please go fetch some mops and soapy water. I'll need you both to clean up the hatching room while I tend to the little feathers."

"Awww man!" Cole pouted, "Why do I have to lug this guy around?"

"You were the one who said you wanted to be _part_ of the process," Petra said a little huffily, "Congratulations. You've got your wish. I'm going to wash up first, so I'll draw the bath. But you will need to _lug_ him there. Do try not to cause too much damage. This is his first day, you know."

"Why doesn't he have wings? Is he sick?" Pyrrha asked softly, nervously twirling the long, reddish gold braid that curled around her shoulder and nearly down to her knees. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know. She'd been at Old Home ever since she was a little feather and likely didn't remember her Winging.

It was just as well.

"None of us are born with them," Petra replied matter-of-factly, "But he _will_ have them. Soon. Which is why _some of us_ need to finish their chores so that we can get everything ready for the Winging process."

"All right, all right! I'm going!" Cole said irritably, pulling the still-unconscious man by pulling one arm over the back of his neck and steadying him with his arm.

"Ugh! For such a wiry guy, he's really heavy!" Cole grunted and Petra rolled her eyes so theatrically, she was surprised that they didn't produce a sound effect.

"Fine! I'll help you!" she said venomously, positioning herself on the other side and doing the same with the man's other arm. She became painfully aware of how sticky and covered in egg fluid she really was as a loose strand of her hair clung wetly to her cheek. Together they managed to get him into the bathroom and sat him down on the stone floor while Petra ran the bath.

She got some towels and washrags together and took them to her own room, which was right off the main common area and had its own extra bed and bathroom. It was convenient because of the location and because Petra often treated it as a nurses station of sorts if one of the little feathers got sick or needed medical care. Whoever had this room before her had left a number of packs of cigarettes and other assorted personal effects that Petra had taken to using as though they'd been made for her. She didn't remember anything about what her life had been like Before, but it didn't bother her all that much.

She regretted the smoking, though, which was why she had taken to snapping the rubber band against her wrist whenever she craved a cigarette.

Augustin had suggested it to her as an effective way to train oneself out of a bad habit but she hadn't really experienced much in the way of success, unless a red wrist was the intended result.

Other than the smoking, Petra was content. She had Old Home, the little feathers and the other Haibane who worked in town to keep her company.

And, now, a newcomer. Things were going to be exciting, that was for certain.

"C'mon, wake up!" Cole was saying irritably, lightly slapping the man's slack cheeks to no avail.

"Honestly, you're not even trying," Petra grumbled, pushing him out of the way.

She took the warm washcloth she'd been using and dabbed at the man's abnormally large nose and wiped some gunky residue from his pale cheek. She grasped his shoulder and shook him gently until he groaned and his eyes opened ever so slightly before snapping open, wide with fear.

_Black eyes. Curious._

"Gwahhh!" he shouted, scooting backwards against the wall.

"You're safe! It's ok! Really!" Petra assured him, but he was looking around suspiciously.

"Where…?" he rasped.

"You're safe, so please! Calm down!" she repeated, fixing him with the same intense and unblinking stare that she used regularly on the children to intimidate them into compliance.

She expected him to go silent, or for it not to work at all, but she didn't expect him to start chuckling. Quietly at first, his laughter grew louder until it bounced off of the tiled walls, distorted and echoey.

"Oh great, Petra," Cole snorted, "You broke his tiny mind."

"You _would_ like that, because then you wouldn't be the dumbest person in Old Home anymore," Petra shot back.

Cole snorted, his cheeks red with humiliation.

"I appear to be...underdressed," the dark-eyed man said raspily when he finally calmed down, "Also, I feel incredibly weak."

"Well, _Cole here _is going to assist you with washing up," Petra said pointedly, giving Cole a stern look, "And when you are done, he will see you to my room so that we can have a little talk and you can rest a bit from your ordeal."

"That would be...nice...but I fear I have rested for too long already," came the reply.

"Now, don't _you_ push yourself!" Petra said fiercely, turning to the green-haired young man to her right, "Cole, if you have any trouble, just holler. I assure you that I am well-acquainted with difficult individuals."

The others shared a look before both nodded slightly.

"I assume that you will explain the...and the…"he said, trailing off as he pointed at Petra's dark gray wings and the ring that floated a few inches over her head.

"I promise," she replied, placing a hand on his knee, "But first thing's first."

She stood and rinsed the washcloth out in the basin twice before taking it with her and closing the door gently behind her.

Damn. A change of clothes were in order. No amount of soapy washcloths were going to salvage her outfit.

Swearing quietly under her breath, Petra made her way back to her room, hoping she had time to change before their newest guest was done with his bath.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Bedrest**

"There! One new haibane, dressed and presentable as ordered," Cole grumbled in a pouty tone of voice, showing in the newcomer as Petra was drying off her hair.

"Thanks, Cole, I-" Petra's words died in her throat as she turned to face them and she stared with a mixture of horror and exasperation on her face.

The new haibane was dressed, if one could even call it that, in a hideous mismatch of clothing that nearly made his previous nudity a preferable state. There were the bright orange pantaloons with patches on the knees that seemed to be both too gigantic and far too short for his long, thin legs. This was accentuated by the fact that it looked as though the only thing holding them around his narrow waist was a multi-colored scarf. The gray button-up shirt seemed to fit him fine at first glance, but the shoulders were obviously a bit tight even though the cuffs covered his fingers nearly to the tips. The newcomer refused to look at anyone from behind the still-dripping curtain of his limp black hair and pointedly stared at his fingertips, which were fidgeting with the corners of his sleeves. He looked lost and Petra felt a stab of sympathy for him. After all, even though she'd been at Old Home for years, she would never forget the feelings of loss and confusion, of worrying about intruding on a bunch of strangers that she'd felt those first few weeks after her Hatching. Of course, now, she was the oldest, and everything seemed to fall to her, which she secretly hated and loved at the same time.

Ever since Rakka had gone on her pilgrimage journey around the Wall, things just weren't the same. Cole and Zephyr were fairly certain that Rakka had finally gone on to whatever came Next, but Petra wasn't sure. She spent the meager time she had to herself on short expeditions to the Wall, but had not found the golden ring that haibane always left behind when they reached their Day of Flight. She still had hope that one day, she'd see Rakka again.

Truth be told, Petra disliked being the longest-living resident at Old Home, even though the thought of reaching her own Day of Flight filled her with a sick sense of dread. Perhaps that was why she was still at Old Home, caring for the Little Feathers and keeping things in a controlled sort of chaos around the building. There had always only been girls and women at Old Home, but when Cole and a handful of male haibane had hatched within the walls of the buildings, none of them had been willing to send them away to Abandoned Factory or the Ancient Hollows further south.

"Petra, do you still need me or can I _go_ now?" Cole sounded like a petulant child half his age, but Petra knew that he was just hurt that she hadn't thanked him profusely for helping clean up the newcomer.

Cole was tall and broad-shouldered but still gangly like the teenager that he was. Something about his personality craved attention, regardless of whether or not it was positive. He'd dyed his hair green for the same reason, and the effect had not gone unnoticed when Pyrrha had begun blushing every time she took a look at his unnaturally colored hair. Petra still called him "broccoli head" from time to time, but it was more of a term of endearment than an insult.

She approached Cole, who had ushered the new haibane over to the bed. The newcomer was obviously weak from the entire ordeal, and it looked as though he was barely keeping himself awake. Petra was impressed. Most haibane fell back asleep after their Hatching and had to be given a sponge bath before being hosted into bed to sleep off their fatigue.

"Cole, I really appreciate all of your help," Petra said gently, using the warm washcloth she'd kept in her hand to wipe off a small bit of egg-gunk that had affixed itself to his cheek, "Why don't you take a nice warm shower and get yourself cleaned up. We have much to celebrate tonight!"

Cole gave her a half-smirk and nodded.

"I'll leave it to you, then, Mo-er-Petra," he said, ruffling his hair with embarrassment as he made a quick exit.

Petra smiled wistfully and waved. Cole had called her Mom a lot when he was a Little Feather. He'd been a bit of a crybaby, too, even though now it was impossible to tell.

She turned to the new haibane and looked at him with a gentle expression that she hoped was welcoming. He'd bent forward in a sitting position, his nose nearly pressing against his lap, and she was pretty sure that he had begun snoring.

"Now, then, that will not do," Petra tsked, approaching him.

Luckily, Cole hadn't put any shoes on the newcomer, but his feet were still bare and cold, which Petra knew couldn't be comfortable. Still, when she touched his shoulders to gently push him back against the mattress so that he could sleep more comfortably, he jerked up, his dark eyes staring at her suspiciously.

"I...I was just trying to help you get more comfortable so you could rest!" Petra stammered under his accusatory glare.

"Mmf," he acquiesced, allowing her to lay him back against the pillow.

"I just need to get you a quilt. I'll be right back, I promise," Petra said, turning to open the linen closet.

She put a gray blanket over his body and was glad that even though he was tall and had very long legs, his feet did not hang off the end of the mattress.

"There, much better," Petra said, trying to be cheerful and doing her best not to wince at how fake it sounded.

Rakka always knew how to be gentle and say the right words to put people at ease, but Petra felt as though she was constantly pretending. She only hoped that he would be too tired to really remember her horrible bedside manner, even though the keen gaze upon her told her otherwise.

"Where..am I?" he croaked, his face peering out from under the quilt.

"You should rest, you know," Petra said concernedly, "It's not as though we're going anywhere. You've had a busy first day."

"You said that...before…" His voice was deep and yet somehow slightly nasal as well. It was disconcerting and musical at the same time, which filled Petra with an odd feeling in her belly.

"Yes, and I believe that there will be plenty of time to answer your questions once you've recovered your strength!" Petra said abruptly, feeling a flush rising on her face even though she couldn't say why, "I need to start preparing for the evening meal, so please do not concern yourself with anything for awhile. I shall bring your food here so that you don't have to strain yourself."

His eyes narrowed and he frowned slightly, making a strange facial expression that Petra supposed must be him trying to suppress a yawn.

"Am I...a...prisoner?" he asked darkly.

"_What_?! No! Of _course_ not!" Petra exclaimed, "Did Cole tell you that? Why, I'm going to go give him a piece of my-"

"No, he...never said...sorry. I just...I should rest." He turned and faced away from her.

Petra nodded and lowered the light in the room before stepping out the door.

"I'll be back later," she whispered into the near darkness.

He made no sound or movement to show that he'd heard her.

Petra decided that the best way to get the strange emotion fluttering under her ribcage to go away was to start on supper. She had the feeling that Cole was going to be peeling a lot of potatoes in the very near future.

As Petra closed the door, she did not hear the muffled sobs coming from under the quilt.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Winging It**

"So, what is he like?" Zephyr asked excitedly as Petra passed her the mashed potatoes.

"It's too bad he's an old man. I bet he won't even help with the chores," Cole groused, his arms crossed as he leaned back a bit too far on his chair and had to catch himself so that he didn't fall on the floor.

"Serves you right for saying mean things!" Zephyr snickered as Pyrrha gasped and hid her eyes with her hands.

"Settle down, now," Petra said seriously, "You all need to be good role models for the little feathers."

"Don't talk about us like we're not here!" grumbled Nina from the children's table a short ways away.

"Shhhh, Nina!" Velocity said fearfully, "you're gonna make Petra mad!"

"I am not mad," Petra said exasperatedly, "I simply wish to enjoy a quiet meal for once in my life. Our new feather will require a lot of attention the next couple of days, so I need to make sure I eat enough to keep my strength up."

"Don't worry! I'll watch the little feathers with Pyrrha!" Zephyr exclaimed brightly.

"S...sure…o..okay," Pyrrha said shyly, looking over at Cole somewhat expectantly.

"Sorry, but I need to go back to the welding shop in the morning," Cole said with a shrug, "We've been understaffed as it is because Elden has been home sick for the past week and Sethiena is home recovering from having her first child."

"That should be fine, as long as you don't dawdle on your way home," Petra replied.

"Fine," Cole said, rolling his eyes.

Petra tried to look stern but failed when she noticed that Velocity and Nina were copying Cole from behind his back.

"Hey, what are you all laughing about?" Cole said irritably.

"See for yourself!" Zephyr giggled, pointing behind him.

Petra took this opportunity to shove the remaining food on her plate into her mouth and washed it down with the rest of her juice. Then, she turned and went into the kitchen to place her dish in the sink.

"I'm going to bring him some soup and see if the fever's started yet," Petra said briskly, "Cole, it's your turn to do the dishes and it's Pyrrha's turn to dry. You two can sort out cleaning up the dining area yourselves. Zeph, you can start the little feathers with their bedtime routine."

"Yay!" Zephyr exclaimed, "I've got just the story to read tonight! C'mon kids!"

"Wipe your faces and hands!" Petra called out as the children all jumped up and began running after Zephyr as fast as their little legs could carry them. "Ugh. I don't even know why I bother."

"You wouldn't have to if Rakka came back," Cole muttered as he slouched towards the kitchen.

Petra stiffened as she picked up the tray of food.

"I'm going to go back to my quarters, then," she said stiffly, "Pyrrha, if you could please bring some warm towels and a kettle of hot water after you're finished here, I'd really appreciate it."

Pyrrha nodded and began to wring her hands as she looked nervously from Cole to Petra and back again.

"See ya, Petra," Pyrrha squeaked, but Petra had already turned around the corner in the hallway and was gone.

* * *

He was so hot that it felt as though he might catch fire, even though he could sense that the air was cool, and the quilt on his body was thin. Then, suddenly, the heat was gone and he was shivering in a clammy cold that made his teeth chatter. His skin itched terribly on his back and he could feel an ache from deep inside of his body as though something was folding out of place on his very bones.

For some reason, the pain seemed familiar, though he couldn't remember clearly where he'd felt it before. Still, he found himself whimpering as he tried to turn and a sharp pain stabbed through his ribcage, instinctively forcing him to curl up tightly into a ball.

He heard her heavy steps before the door opened, which allowed him to close his eyes and pretend to breathe evenly as though he was sleeping. It had been stupid for him to cry earlier. He didn't know _why_ he was crying, after all, just the thought that he'd left something unfinished, that he'd _failed_. But none of that made any sense.

"Rise and shine! It's time to eat." said the woman...Pet-something?

"Mmmmff," he grumbled, as though she was waking him up. Even though he knew it would be easier if he didn't provoke her, something inside of him still felt spiteful and wanted to make things as difficult as possible for this unknown person. Anger and irritation were far easier than the grief and fear that gripped his chest along with a sense of unending shame.

He sat up just as she brought over the tray and set it down on the table next to his bed.

"I'm Petra, remember? How are you doing?" Petra began, her eyes looking him over like some sort of mother hen,"Do you feel any discomfort from your Hatching?"

"No," he lied. The pain wasn't that bad, after all. He'd probably just strained something while that green-haired kid was dragging him down the stairs from the costume trunk he called a closet.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," Petra said, growing flustered as he stared at her as blankly as possible. "In any case, why don't we talk a bit while you eat."

"I believe that talking with one's mouth full is considered rude, yes?" he said somewhat snarkily.

"W..well, yes," Petra admitted, "Then I'll just tell you a little bit about what's going on while you eat. Is that ok?"

He nodded and picked up the tray, marveling at how heavy it felt in his arms. He sipped his soup and nodded to her to continue.

"Anyway...um...here goes," Petra said, "So, you may have noticed that I have a couple of things about myself that seem different than other human beings. That's because we are not exactly human. We call ourselves _haibane_. The halo is something that will be given to you later as part of our traditional welcoming ceremony, and our small gray wings...well…"

"Perhaps you are mistaken about me. I do not have wings," he replied flatly between sips.

"Yes, well, that's the thing. They'll probably be growing in soon. Tell me, do you feel sore in your back or shoulder area?"

He went still for a moment and regarded her suspiciously with his dark eyes before nodding curtly.

"Do you mind if I see?" Petra asked, "If it's begun, you'll need to remove your shirt to keep it from getting messy when they break through."

He stared at her, then, and she blushed under his gaze.

"I...if it will make you feel better, I can get one of our open-backed hospital shirts." Petra started to stand up, but he had already pushed the tray onto his legs and was unbuttoning the shirt meticulously. When he'd finished, he pulled it off of each arm and folded it in half before handing it to her, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

"Now, if that is all you need of me, I shall continue eating my meal," he said shortly, grabbing the tray once again.

"If you could lean forward, I'm just going to inspect your back."

He sighed loudly but did as she'd asked.

"Just as I thought. You're going to be Winging soon." She brushed her fingers against what felt like slight lumps protruding from his shoulder blades and he tried not to wince.

"Oh _goody_," he remarked sarcastically, "I imagine it's painful, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I'll do what I can to make you comfortable."

He simply grunted noncommittally in reply. It wasn't as though he could change what was happening to him, and so he simply focused on the mashed potatoes instead. They were actually quite delicious, and he chewed them slowly, savoring the taste. It was odd knowing what mashed potatoes were, yet not knowing anything about what had happened before he'd broken out of a giant bloody egg and fallen to the floor as naked as a newborn babe.

"I'll prepare the cold compresses," Petra said, standing up and walking back towards the sink at the far end of the room. "I can see that you're not in the mood to talk."

He shrugged even though her back was turned to him and continued eating. Surprisingly, he finished everything off before she returned and placed the empty dishes and tray on the bedside table once again.

"I...I'm c-cold…" was all he could say before his body went rigid and he began to moan in pain, his teeth chattering together violently.

As though from far away, he felt the gentle press of a hand against his forehead.

"You're burning up," Petra said concernedly, her voice echoing as though being spoken from far away.

He blinked but his vision was blurry and refused to clear.

"Hey! Stay with me!" Her voice was urgent but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He was burning up. He was freezing. He was terrified and even though he didn't know why, he felt utterly and bitterly alone.

There was that warm hand again, only this time it was squeezing his shoulder.

The pain pressed down against his back until he could barely breathe, and yet the comforting hand never left his shoulder. The pain and the fever kept him in a nightmarish twilight between sleep and consciousness, but somehow, he felt less alone knowing that someone was there with him.

He felt a sickening burst of pain followed by the sensation of warm wetness running down his back. He blinked rapidly as he vaguely realized that he was somehow no longer lying on his back. Instead, he was leaning forward into his lap, his back bent forward as the skin on his shoulders burned and split.

And then, all at once, the twin points of pain and pressure finally broke free from his body and something stretched outward towards the sky away from him.

The pain was unbearable for a moment, but then it was gone, along with the fever. His last thoughts before he passed out were that his body ached as though it had just run a marathon.

He slept.

* * *

Someone was brushing his hair.

He tried to pull away, but he couldn't seem to roll onto his back. Someone was holding onto him. No. Someone was holding onto something _behind_ him. Something that was _attached_ to his back.

His eyes went wide and he tried to pull away in earnest, which earned him two sharp pains in his shoulder blades.

"Ow! Gerroff me!" he hollered, flailing blindly away from whoever was holding him in place.

"Easy! Easy!"

He sat up abruptly and nearly fell off of the narrow bed as the blood rushed to his head.

Familiar arms steadied him and pulled him back from falling onto the floor.

"You're ok! You're safe! _Please_! Stop!"

He hesitated. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't think of who it was.

"It's _me_! Petra!"

"What were you doing to me?" He shot an accusing glare at her.

"I was just brushing your wings clean."

"Nonsense! I don't have-" He paused as unfamiliar muscles on his back twitched.

"See for yourself." Petra handed him a small mirror.

He held it up and his eyes widened with surprise. Two gray wings stuck out on either side of his shoulders. The tips were still somewhat coppery in color. He supposed it must be his own blood. The smell of it was still in the air, though it was obvious that Petra had done her best to clean up the mess before he'd awoken. As he focused on the newfound musculature in his back, he found that he could make them flap slightly, though not without twinges of pain when he attempted to do so.

"They're a beautiful charcoal gray," Petra said with a satisfied nod.

He stared at her suspiciously.

"Why are you doing this for me? You barely know me. It's obvious by the bags under your eyes that you've not slept in a long time, either. So...why?"

Petra gave him an odd look and rolled her eyes.

"Don't be so overdramatic," she replied, "I run Old Home. That's my job. I take care of the Little Feathers, and I oversee the other haibane. I've been on point for more than a few Wingings. It's just...that's how it is here. You still have a lot to learn."

Petra started to say more but then she yawned wide despite her obvious attempts to stop it.

"Then...thank you. You should rest. I will be alright on my own," he said softly, refusing to look at her.

"We still haven't settled the point of your name, but I think it might be best to wait until we've gotten your halo sorted out first," Petra said, smiling gently. "Besides, the others will want to be here."

"What do you mean by that? Don't tell me that you're going to draw names from a hat or something stupid like that," he grumbled.

"No, nothing like that," Petra replied with a laugh, "Tell me, though, can you remember your dream? You know, before you hatched?"

"And if I _don't_ want to share it with you?" he replied with a cross expression.

"Well, I guess that if you're going to be _that_ way, I could just come up with a name for you, if you'd like. How about Obstinate Goat?"

He snorted. "Fine. What would you _actually_ name me?"

"Generally, our chosen names have to do with our first dream," Petra explained. "For example, I had a dream of being surrounded by tall stones. I was in the center and there was a voice...someone was singing…well, anyway, so that's what I meant. If I knew what your dream was, then perhaps I could come up with a couple of names that you might like."

"I..._fine_. I dreamt about...the ocean. I was deep underwater and it was dark. Someone was with me. She had fins and tried to bring me back to the surface, but I was too heavy. I...I couldn't follow where she wanted me to go." He looked pensively at his hands. "So, then, Miss Genius, exactly how would you translate _that_ to a name?"

"I'm not sure," Petra said hesitantly, "but I know someone who would. Are you still tired? I can leave you if you'd like to rest."

"Surprisingly, for a night of fever dreams and...growing wings, apparently, I seem to be completely wide awake," he replied, "So then, can you promise that this friend of yours can give me more information about what I can expect from this place?"

"Well, you're welcome to find a room of your own here once you have the energy to do so," Petra said with a shrug, "It's only your second day here at Old Home, so I don't want you to get overwhelmed."

A muffled giggle made them both turn their heads towards the door.

A girl was standing frozen against the wall as though she'd been caught mid-tiptoe.

"_Zephyr_! What are you doing in here?" Petra scolded, "I know you can read the sign on the door, so don't pretend it was an accident."

"Pyrrha made me do it!" Zephyr squeaked.

"What?! No I didn't!" came a high-pitched voice from the hallway.

"Yeah, you did! You said that you thought that his wings hadn't broken through yet, but I said that I thought they had!" Zephyr crowed triumphantly.

"Out! Now!" Petra hollered, her eyebrows furrowed with irritation, turning back to the new haibane when Zephyr had slammed the door behind her, "and as for you, I think it's probably best that we get you dressed first, unless you'd like to walk around in that terrible outfit that Cole picked out for you earlier. I've taken the liberty of asking Minami to grab some clothing on her way back from work this morning. I hope you don't mind that I took your measurements while you were dead to the world."

He shrugged, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he looked down at his lap. "It's not like I can tell you to un-measure me."

"I draped everything over the chair in the bathroom. Feel free to get cleaned up and I'll fix you something to eat. When you're ready, we'll head out for a bit."

He looked up at her, his black eyes wary. "Where will we be going?"

"Oh, just my favorite place in the world," Petra said with a wistful smile.

"And where would that be?"

"The library."

His eyes widened at this, but he said nothing.

As Petra closed the door behind her, she could hear him taking a couple of tentative steps before padding to the bathroom.

It was going to be a busy day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: New Feather, New Name, Old Home**

"I look ridiculous."

Petra glanced over and stifled a snicker.

"No you don't," she said, putting a hand on her hip.

"Do not lie. You are laughing under that hand." It was his turn to put his hands on his hips as he scowled at her.

"I guess you caught me, heh," she replied. "Come on then, I'll help you fix it properly."

His scowl deepened but he nodded and she walked towards him, helping him tie the garment properly.

"It's called a yukata," she said, "but don't ask me how I know that."

"I'm beginning to realize that is part of being...what did you call us again?"

"Haibane. Hi-bah-nay," she replied, repeating the name phonetically as she secured the tie and stepped back. "There! Much better! I still can't tell for the life of me why you chose this over the trousers, shirts, sweaters, and other items that I prepared from the closet."

"I can't tell you why, but they feel...familiar. Though I'd prefer if they were less garishly patterned and a bit longer." He surveyed himself in the mirror, looking dubiously at how his pale, skinny legs stuck out the bottom.

"Here, just wear these underneath for the time being," Petra said, handing him a pair of tweed trousers. "We can stop at the thrift store in town for something a bit more your style."

He looked at the trousers as though they'd committed a crime against him. "No thanks. I'd rather die of pneumonia."

They both turned sharply as a soft knock rapped against the door before the knob began to turn slowly.

"I...I'm sorry to interrupt…" A freckled girl with long, red hair done up in braids pinned around her head entered the room.

"Hello Pyrrha," Petra said, motioning for her to enter.

"Can we come in too?" A chorus of voices sounded from behind the red-haired girl, who blushed furiously and looked away as though she was expecting to be reprimanded.

Petra looked over at the new haibane, who shrugged.

"Fine, then," she said, "just don't make a ruckus."

An assortment of haibane filed into the room, the youngest ones jumping up onto the bed with their shoes on, which earned them a stern look from Petra.

"So, has he told you about his dream yet?" Cole asked as he leaned against the doorway, his curiosity poorly hidden.

"Yeah! I want to know what it is too!" The hyperactive girl, Zephyr, was nearly vibrating as she jumped up and down behind Pyrrha.

"I've spoken to Petra about it," the new haibane said, his voice surprisingly calm even though he looked uncomfortable.

"Are you sure that you want to...talk about it? I know that we were going to go-" Petra went silent as she cast a surprised look at the door. An older woman with closely-cropped graying hair and a long, silk garment with a flowery design embroidered down its length was standing by the door with an inquisitive look on her lined face. She lifted a large, bulky bag with one hand as though it weighed nothing and set it down beside her with a small smile, her eyes bright behind small, rectangular glasses.

"Manami!" Petra called out, taking a step forward before she could finally control herself.

"Hello everyone." All heads turned to look at her and the smallest haibane laughed as they ran to her, throwing their arms around her with shouts of welcome.

"I see we have a new addition," Manami said softly, walking through the room gracefully, as though she did not have five small children attached to her arms and legs. "Welcome to Old Home, new feather."

"I...I...I have...the...ring!" Pyrrha stammered, holding up the small metal container. She fumbled it slightly but caught it at last, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Very well. But first, the dream, yes?" Manami said. It was very obvious that everyone, even Petra, looked up to her.

There was something about the sound of her voice- soft, yet stern. It filled him with a sense of longing, though he couldn't say why.

"It was the ocean. I was...deep, deep down. There was only a sense of greenish blue light...and...I was sinking." His voice shook slightly as he tried to describe the lingering mental images that rose before his eyes. "I remember...red...something...There was someone...but...no...I think…"

He looked down at his hands, his eyes widening as he realized they were shaking.

"I couldn't think of a name, so we were going to go to the library," Petra said softly.

"How about Greenlight?" one of the children squeaked.

"I like Watery!" another chimed in.

"Shush, you two!" Petra scolded them, but from the smirk on her lips, it was obvious that she was not actually angry.

"Hm...water..._water_...what about Bubbles?" Zephyr said brightly.

"Psh," Cole scoffed. "No way. That's totally lame."

"I am glad that I am not alone in that opinion," the new haibane said with a snort.

"Nereus."

Everyone turned to look at Pyrrha, who was blushing a deep shade of crimson at the sudden attention.

"I...I read a book…" she stammered, clasping the metal case to her chest. "It...is a name associated with the sea. Of the minor god who created the Nereids."

"Hmm…" Something about the name seemed familiar to him, but once again, he was struck with the sensation of being unable to remember the details. He couldn't help himself. He nodded.

"Nereus it is, then." Manami nodded sagely.

It seemed that the matter was settled, then.

Pyrrha steeled herself and stepped forward, though she looked like she was about to faint. Opening the metal container, she pulled a pair of tongs from her belt and pulled a shining golden circle from inside.

"New Feather, Nereus, we welcome you to Old Home. Please receive this halo as a symbol of your birthright."

He had to bend down onto one knee, as she was more than a head shorter than him. He could feel a strange sense of warmth and energy as the ring was placed above him. However, instead of pressing against the top of his head as he'd expected, it merely wobbled a couple of times before it began to float in place. She stepped back and gave him a shy smile.

"Thank you," he whispered, not daring to say anything further. For some reason, when surrounded by so many smiling faces, he felt a mixture of anxiety and pleasure that twisted in his belly and seemed to coalesce in his throat.

"Come on, now! Let's give our new feather some room!" Petra said loudly, shooing everyone out.

"Ok! See ya, Nereus!" Zephyr cried, waving happily from the door.

"Meh, I still think that it's not as cool as my name," Cole groused, walking out and stretching his hands behind his head. The children had finally detached themselves from Manami and were running at Zephyr's heels as she challenged them to a race outside.

Manami stayed behind, nodding at the others as they made their way through the door.

"It's been a big day for you, hasn't it?" she said softly, "Petra, please follow the little feathers outside and make sure that they're not getting up to any monkey business."

"Ok!" Petra said, looking back at him oddly before heading through the door and closing it behind her.

Manami went through the curtain at the side of the room and emerged several minutes later with a pot of tea and two small cups.

"There," she said, setting them down on the small table, "Now, then, how are you feeling? I am sure that you have many questions. Between you and me, I've been around for quite some time, as you can probably tell."

"Where...am I?" he asked after a long silence, sipping slowly at the bitter tea.

"Petra hasn't told you yet? I am surprised," Manami looked at him over her glasses before smiling tightly.

"I...I've been sick, and my wings grew, so…" he trailed off, feeling his wings twitching back and forth uncomfortably without a conscious effort on his part to move them.

"It's understandable. From what I can tell, you were recently born from your egg. It's surprising that your wings grew so quickly, though. Most newborns take a couple of days to achieve their Winging."

"I...I'm not a baby, though," he said, his voice growing hard, "I...I know that I know things, but I don't know my name, nor can I remember anything about what happened before...this."

"That is one of the mysteries of the haibane, Nereus," Manami replied solemnly, "If we existed before we grew into our eggs, we cannot remember the lives that we had before. And, if we go from this place on our Day of Flight, it is said that our time here will no longer be remembered by anyone other than those that remain."

"I heard that this place is referred to as Old Home. What does that mean?" he asked, looking around with a slightly puzzled expression. It was odd, hearing his new name being used to refer to himself. But the name he'd known before was like a half-remembered dream, and there was a pain to it that he couldn't put into words.

"We call it Old Home, but it seems that it used to be some sort of school. There are dormitories and a building full of classrooms used to teach the little feathers, as well as a large courtyard and a bell tower. It keeps good time. Zephyr keeps it in great shape now, but it was fixed quite a long time ago." Manami smiled wistfully. "Oh, Kana...if she could only see it today…"

"Have you been here long?" Nereus asked, trying to ignore the discomfort rising in his chest.

"Yes. I've been the housemother for quite some time," Manami replied, her eyes growing sharp behind her glasses. "Petra helps me with teaching the little feathers. Part of being a proper haibane is that you must work in some capacity. In return, you receive a notebook which you will use to receive everything you should need for daily life. Pyrrha will be returning the ring cast today. She will likely bring you a letter back from the Haibane Renmei, the organization of individuals who oversee the care of all haibane in this world. I've been around for many hatching days and hope that I shall be around for many more, so I will give you the following advice, for what it's worth. Take some time to get acquainted with Old Home and get to know the others. If you have any great talents, it will help you to realize them once more so that you can find something enjoyable to work at."

He nodded politely, knowing that she was still staring at him pointedly. To his surprise, she stood, smoothing the fabric of her clothing where it had bunched while she was sitting and bowed slightly to him.

"Welcome, new feather," she said formally. "I expect to see great work from you."

"Thank you," he replied, standing and bowing back. He didn't know why, but he felt that it was the proper thing to do.

When the door had closed behind him, Nereus found himself looking at the bag of clothing that had been left near the wall by the door with interest. Soon, he'd dragged the bag over to the bed and dumped out the clothing. Most of it was terrible and somewhat threadbare, but then, near the bottom, he pulled something out that made him pause. It was wrinkled and the shoulders were slightly baggier than would be perfect, but it fit him well and it was a very dark charcoal gray. The main problem was figuring how to get his aching new wings through the slits in the back of the shirt, but eventually he managed, though there were a couple of feathers on the floor and he could feel the gauze pull painfully against his still-healing wounds.

When he finally stood and looked at himself in the mirror, he frowned slightly before turning to the side. The long button-up jacket looked good over the ivory dress-shirt he'd found, and though he would have loved for the black slacks to be somewhat tighter, they still fit his waist well as long as he cinched the black leather belt he'd found at the bottom of the bag tightly around him. The silver buttons at the cuffs and up to his throat looked somewhat tarnished, but they still shone in the late-afternoon light as it came through the large windows. He had left the last couple of buttons undone and wavered between buttoning them all the way up his throat and letting them hang loose. Something about the feeling of buttoning them all the way up was seared into his muscle memory, and it simply felt _wrong_ not to do so. The sensation of knowing the feelings of pulling and pressing buttons through buttonholes was somewhat disconcerting, since it was a knowledge that he'd not known he'd had until it had been needed, but at the same time, he found himself smiling at the thought that he'd found something comforting even if he couldn't tell anyone why it was familiar.

With a final look in the mirror after pulling his long, black hair from out of the collar where some of it had gotten stuck, he strode over to the large, doors that he guessed went out to a balcony and pulled them open, savoring the fresh, cool air that poured in.

With that, Nereus stepped out onto the balcony, his wings twitching with excitement as he took a first look at the outside world.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: A New World**

A _school_. He was standing at the edge of the balcony looking at the courtyard of a _school_. Sure, it was run down, the ancient stone walls covered with hanging vines and infested with vibrant green lichen, but that wasn't what caused a bubbling sense of anxiety to pool in his belly.

'I know this,' he thought to himself, his mind reeling so much that he couldn't bear to speak the words aloud.

Nothing bothered Nereus as much as the feeling of deja vu that struck him so hard that he stepped back as though he'd been physically knocked off balance. He could feel the brisk breeze shoot past him and kick up a flurry of tiny brittle leaves that had collected on the brownish grasses below. Though he couldn't tell how he knew it, he could tell that winter was approaching quickly, and for some reason, this too seemed to pull up the ghost of an imprint of a memory, not of events, but of a breezy, near-winter morning from long ago in the place he'd lived before he'd come to this place.

"Ah, s-so there you are," a soft voice said from behind him.

He turned and nodded curtly at the girl who'd placed the halo over his head only a short time before. She was hugging a large book in both arms and peering somewhat shyly over the top. He realized rather belatedly that he was scowling at her and a glance at the reflection on the glass door confirmed that he _did_ look rather frightening.

"I apologize," he said gruffly, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he was in pain, "I promise that my appearance is far more...intimidating...than I truly am. At least, I think that's the case. Anyway, Pyrrha, was it? I fear that I may be terrible at remembering names, though whether this is true or simply a condition left over from hatching out a bloody giant egg, only time will tell."

She blinked and nodded, and he realized that her fiery red hair was truly that- it wasn't orange, but was dark enough that it could nearly be called crimson. She was wearing a pair of rounded glasses that she hadn't been wearing before. He assumed that she probably only needed them for reading, and the glass seemed to make her large, amber eyes glow almost golden in the light of the sun.

"P..Petra told me to ask you if you'd like to come down for lunch...I mean...you don't have to eat if you don't want to, just as a way to get to know everyone," she said softly, mumbling more into the book she was holding than truly at him.

"Thank you. I...shall join you shortly." he sighed, grasping the railing of the balcony and bent forward slightly, savoring the pinching ache in his back as his wings twitched, growing more and more a part of him. "Oh, and Pyrrha?"

"Yes sir?" she squeaked, abruptly standing at attention at the usage of her name.

"Thank you for giving me this," he said, pointing at the halo, his head half turned back as he smirked slightly. "Funny. Though I can't tell you why, the thought of having one of these makes me feel oddly surprised. Maybe I was some sort of demon in my past life."

"I wouldn't know, sir," Pyrrha replied quickly.

He tensed. There was something about the way she called him by that honorific that twisted painfully in his chest.

"Please…" he said quietly, "It's Nereus. Not 'sir.' I...do not care for that term."

"Yes, s-Nereus," Pyrrha corrected herself.

"Even though I can't remember my old name anymore, something about being called by my new one fills me with a peace that stills the pain in my heart," he mused, turning back to her, "So, I suppose I thank you for that as well."

He noticed belatedly that her face had grown scarlet and she was making a choking noise that sounded something like "gottagobye" before she fled through the opened door from the balcony.

He sighed and turned back to look down towards the courtyard where a couple of small children with tiny wings and halos ran around kicking leaves and squealing with excitement. FInally, he stood and straightened his back, only wincing slightly when his shoulder blades ached a bit. As he turned to make his way back inside the building, all he could think about was that this was a second chance to...he wasn't exactly sure _what_ it was a chance _for_, but he was sure as hell not going to waste it.

"Now then," he said to himself, "I do believe that lunch is in order."

* * *

"NEREUS! SIT HERE! SIT HERE!" Zephyr cried out excitedly, slapping the empty chair next to her emphatically.

Nereus stared at it dubiously and crossed his arms.

It had taken him a couple of minutes to orient himself, but it wasn't hard following the noises to where the dining room was located, judging by the sound of conversation and the merry jangling of silverware and dishes.

"He looks so scary!" He turned to see a small child pulling on the leg of his slacks. She looked up at the expression on his face and squeaked, her tiny wings fluttering madly as she ran around the table and hid behind Petra, who had just walked in with a tray of food.

Three boys ran around him laughing and chanting some sort of made-up rhyme and sped over to the smaller table, which had been set for about eight children.

"One feather for summer, three more for spring, ten feathers for autumn, four feathers between. Winter has no feathers, but soon comes the sun. When summer's upon us, we go back down to one!" They chanted it over and over, sitting at the table with their fork and knife held in opposite hands as they drummed the ends on the table in time with the rhyme.

"Ahem." Someone cleared their voice softly and the children went silent, their eyes as they hurried to place their utensils back where they were supposed to be on the table.

In fact, it hadn't escaped his notice that the entire room seemed to have gone silent, himself included.

Manami walked through the door and sat down at the head of the table gracefully. A few children were following behind her and they moved and sat down at the smaller table in an imitation of their teacher, which was quite amusing indeed. She picked up a small teacup and poured from the pot of green tea that had been set on the table already, taking slow, steady sips as the others began to talk softly again until the room was back to its lively dull roar.

"Come on, then," Petra said, clucking her tongue and steering him into the closest open chair. "You sit here next to Pyrrha."

"_Petra_!" Pyrrha protested, flushing as she looked at Nereus, "That's where C-"

"Hey! Why are you sitting in _my_ chair, old man!"

Nereus turned his head and glared at Cole, who had entered the room from the kitchen, his arms laden with a pitcher of juice and a stack of empty glasses. The younger man started and backed up a step before he recovered and kicked at the floor with his sneaker.

"Fine. I'll just sit over here," Cole muttered, setting down the drinks and taking the empty chair next to Zephyr.

"Yaaaay! Cole's here!" Zephyr exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Cole tightly as he protested at her rough treatment.

"Well, then, looks like we're ready to eat," Petra said, finishing passing out the sandwiches to the little feathers. Everyone together, now!"

"Thank you for our food!" everyone said together, clapping once at the end.

Nereus sat silently, observing the ritual, and waited for them to start eating before he began to try the sandwich on the plate in front of him. It was surprisingly good, with a bit of cucumber and ham and some sort of spread that kept it moist. Still, he was grateful when Pyrrha handed him the pitcher and he pulled a glass from the stack that Cole had placed in the middle of the table to pour himself something to drink.

When everyone was finished, Manami was the first to leave, clapping twice to get the attention of the little feathers, who bowed to her and followed her out of the dining room in a straight line. Nereus was reminded of a mama duck with her ducklings and had to stifle a small snort of laughter.

"What's funny, Nereus?" Zephyr asked brightly, causing everyone to stare at him.

"I…" he felt his face growing hot at being placed on the spot like this. "It was just...nothing."

"Hah, the old man is speechless!" Cole crowed, earning a glare from Petra.

"Didn't you say that you were going over to Abandoned Factory to help them with the Crossbeam Project?" Petra said unamusedly, crossing her arms and pointing to the little cuckoo clock on the wall.

"Oh crap!" Cole shouted, standing up abruptly and shaking the table slightly as he pulled his chair back. "Gotta go!"

He raced out of the room in a blur of green hair, his long, blue coat flying open and loose behind him.

"He looks like some kind of blue bird with a green plume when he runs like that!" Zephyr giggled.

Pyrrha giggled softly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. The way she looked at Cole...Nereus felt a stab of recognition at the combination of sadness and longing coalescing in her expression.

"I...I have to go return the ring cast to the Haibane Renmei anyway," Pyrrha said, mumbling into her napkin.

"May I accompany you?" Nereus asked suddenly, and she stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

He wasn't sure why he'd said it, but there was something about her sadness that made him want to protect her, like an injured animal lying on the side of the road. It was stupid, he knew, but he knew he couldn't take it back without looking like an idiot, so he simply sat there silently and let her think.

"Are you sure that you're fit to walk? It's a bit of a ways and there are a few places that require you to walk close to a very high drop," Petra said, leaning forward with a concerned expression as Pyrrha thought quietly.

"I am fine," Nereus said. "I feel as though I will go mad if I am stuck inside for a minute longer."

"I'll take the scooter. It'll be fine." Pyrrha said softly, pulling the small knapsack up off of the floor and hanging it across her shoulders so that it hung down on one side.

"Excellent." Nereus said it because something needed to be said in the awkward silence that followed, but he didn't feel excellent at all. For some reason, butterflies filled his belly as he remembered what Petra had said about the Haibane Renmei. They were officials of some sort who looked after the wellbeing of haibane, and he was unsure about what to expect.

"Come on, then," Pyrrha said, standing and starting towards the door.

Nereus could see where the handle of the halo container was poking out of the top of the knapsack and knew that she meant to go immediately.

"You can choose from the shoes in the hall closet next to the front door if you'd like. Just grab a pair that fits you best and we can sort out something more permanent once you have a chance to go to the thrift store in town," Petra said suddenly. "I know you don't expect to walk all the way there in your socks. Looks like you already have a jacket, so you should be ok as far as that's concerned. It's not really cold yet, but the breeze can be a bit chilly when it kicks up."

He nodded.

"Thank you, Petra," he said softly, "The meal was delicious."

With that, he turned and followed Pyrrha out of the door and down the hall towards the entrance hall, hoping that he'd find big enough shoes for his long, bony feet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: A Savior on Tiny Wings**

"How much further?" Nereus huffed, his wings twitching with pain as he tried to keep up with the shorter, younger haibane.

"Sorry! I'd normally wait for you, but I just...really, _really_ hate this part!" Pyrrha called out breathlessly as she finally touched the other side of the wooden rope bridge.

Nereus looked at it dubiously. It was still swinging from side to side gently and it _was_ a rather long drop. He took a tentative step and paused before taking another. He found that if he simply slid his feet over the planks instead of lifting them properly that it minimized the rocking motion that was threatening to make him feel ill. Calming his movements also seemed to quiet his wings, which were still horribly twitchy and not altogether under his control. It felt _right_ to be as still as possible, yet he was also able to move relatively gracefully, despite the awkwardness of the weight of his new wings.

"Thank you for waiting," he said softly as he finally reached the other side.

Pyrrha smiled tentatively up at him and he couldn't help but smile in return. It made Nereus wonder if he'd been a parent in the Before. Perhaps he'd had a daughter. Somehow he didn't think this was the case, but it still felt somewhat familiar to be protective of others. All of this familiarity was disconcerting, and, rather than helping him feel better, it merely made him frustrated.

"It's just around this bend!" Pyrrha called out, waving from a few paces away.

He blinked. He hadn't seen her go ahead.

"I am right behind you," he said softly, moving towards her.

There was no time to be standing around musing about the past. He had to keep going forward.

* * *

It had been odd visiting the Haibane Renmei, and Nereus felt relieved that it was over. He'd received a scolding from the odd, stooped man with the even odder mask for entering the sacred place without a summons. It had been even more odd to be forced to wear strange, bell-like implements on his wings. Pyrrha had been the one to communicate while he stood there mutely, glowering down his nose at everyone.

But finally it had ended, and they'd left, trekking back across the pathways towards the place where Pyrrha had left the scooter parked. He pulled out the little booklet that had been given to him and frowned at it before placing it back in his pocket. He wished that he could wait just a bit before having to go job hunting, but something about the booklet made him think otherwise.

"Don't worry," Pyrrha said shyly, when they'd reached the rickety bridge, "I got yelled at too, when I first came here. I think it's part of the ritual of becoming a new feather, to be honest."

He chuckled as she ran across the bridge with a squeak of terror, following behind with smooth, sweeping motions. The ride back to Old Home was fairly uneventful, but when they finally returned with the sun setting behind them and a decidedly chilly breeze setting in, he noticed that a new tag had been added to the entranceway- a tag with his name on it.

"Come on, then!" Pyrrha said excitedly, flipping over her tag and motioning for him to do the same, "I think I can smell dinner!"

He followed her with a nod, a smile quirking up his lips as she skipped ahead of him. It seemed that even though Pyrrha was shy, she was becoming used to him, and it the sensation of being familiar with others, of being _wanted_ made his heart pulse with happiness. Still, there was a sense of terror in his chest at the thought that perhaps it would be snatched cruelly away from him at any moment.

* * *

He awoke in a cold sweat, thrashing about under sweat-soaked sheets. There had been a terrible buzzing noise and glowing red eyes and a black, gaping maw that seemed to open and open eternally wide. No matter how fast he ran, it was always nearly upon him and when it had finally snapped down on his leg, he found himself sitting up and clawing at the air with a sharp cry.

It was then that he realized that there was something loud battering and buzzing against the glass doors out to the balcony. Cautiously, he pulled himself out of bed and approached the windows, which were covered with gauzy material. He pulled it back and nearly jumped back in fright. There wasn't enough light to see, but it seemed like something small and round was attempting to smash itself against the glass repeatedly. He stepped back over to the lamp on the nightstand and switched it on, illuminating the windows with a soft glow.

There was a final, sickeningly loud thud and then all fell silent. He quickly made his way back to the door and pulled back the curtain to see a tiny huddled form near the bottom of the door. Pulling the leftmost door open, he gingerly knelt down to his right and picked up a tiny, shuddering hummingbird. He shivered as the freezing night air hit his skin and immediately swept back inside with the creature in his hand, pressing the door closed with his foot. Once inside, he looked down and noticed that the creature in his hand was absurdly still for such a creature. Its little beak stuck out between his forefinger and thumb and he could see where it was resting its tiny forehead against the warmth of his finger. Though it was tiny, he could tell that its plumage was rather puffed out instinctively as a response to the cold. And, as he inspected her plumage, a slightly shimmery golden-brown, he realized that it was indeed a female hummingbird that had nearly brained herself to death on the glass window. He looked down at her and she turned her head, fixing one dark eye on him. With a tiny squeaking chirp, she nuzzled into his hand a bit more and promptly shut her eyes.

Nereus gathered a towel from the bathroom as slowly and quietly as he could to avoid waking the tiny creature and, wrapping it around until it was shaped like a makeshift nest on the bedside table, he slowly lowered the bird onto it. She made a sleepy squeak before closing her tiny eyes again, and he lowered himself into bed, looking at her quizzically. There was something about her that seemed familiar though he knew it was ridiculous.

"Perhaps I am simply thinking that everything is familiar," he mused softly to himself before he switched off the light and pulled the covers up to his chin and suppressing a massive yawn. "No matter. I shall think more about it tomorrow morning."

Somehow, falling asleep with the sound of tiny, chirping snores in one of his ears was far easier than it should have been, but Nereus spent his last moments of wakefulness wondering if perhaps he would wake up in yet another world. His wings twitched once as though in reply, and he sank into a dreamless sleep in moments.


End file.
